


come into the drowning deep

by Starsilver



Series: dreaming of city smoke [2]
Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Capes Still Exist, Gen, Kelpies, Offscreen Drowning, Those warnings are, Urban Fantasy, also warning for OC character death, but it's random e88 mook number 247 so, in this case, mention of typical nazi gang behavior, smashing up a storefront, use of the f-slur, with a fun modern twist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:53:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29960535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starsilver/pseuds/Starsilver
Summary: Gang members are not the only predators who stalk the misty, nighttime streets of Brockton Bay. Some of these predators are much, much more hungry...
Series: dreaming of city smoke [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2134413
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	come into the drowning deep

"Oh, um. Hello, sir, ah- Mister Kaiser. It's an honor to meet you, sir-"

"And you as well, Mr. Mathews. Please, tell me about what happened to Jamison."

"Yes sir, of course, sir. Only..."

"Yes?"

"Well, I don't rightly _know_ what happened to Grant, sir. It was so foggy and dark-"

"That's all right, Mr. Mathews. Just tell me what you can."

"Right. Right, so. Grant and I were coming back from - uh, a little fag bookshop, down near South Ferry. Broke up the windows real good, tagged the front - not with our sign, sir, Smith asked us not to, he says we don't need no attention from the fucking gov capes, right now. So we just made some threats, instead, trashed the books inside too. Nobody made a peep, sir, it was - it was all going so well. Got away nice and clean, took off the masks, and, uh - we ended up walking alongside the river. Nobody around for most of it, not even the whores who're usually there. It was - very quiet, sir, and - I don't - I'm sorry, keep thinking about what I should've done different."

"It's all right, Mr. Mathews, but please keep going."

"It was, uh - I think on the corner of Jackson Street, right by that little coffee shop one of our own runs. Grant and I were shoving each other around, just joking, y'know? I pushed him a little too hard, he almost fell in- and that's when he saw it. 

I - I hadn't noticed it until Grant did, sir, but I don't know how. It was - up by one of those streetlights, leaning right on the post. It - it looked like a normal motorbike.

Well, Grant's always had a bit of a weakness for pretty bikes, sir. He has a few back home, and this one was nice, all red and chrome and black. Grant - Grant was all over it right quick, looking it over and telling me all about what kind of bike it was."

"And what kind of bike was it?"

"Oh, it was some kind of Harley, sir, but I'm sorry, the rest was all just numbers and letters. I think he mentioned it was, um. A 1987 model, or maybe he said 1978-

Right, sir, you probably want me to keep going - yes, right. Um.

We found the bike, Grant was looking it over - but it was getting to be morning, sir, and I didn't want to have to rush to meet Smith. So I told him how we should keep going, sir, we needed to be back - and that was when Grant said - he said that 'Some fucking moron forgot to take the keys!'

Now, sir, I didn't really like this at all. Who just leaves a bike worth a lot of money out at night and doesn't even take the keys? Especially around here? It wasn't right, but Grant - God, Grant wouldn't listen.

He wanted that bike, sir, he wanted it real bad. I - I could've tried harder, I guess, but he wouldn't listen, he never did listen to me. He might be alive if he did, sir, and I don't - I wish he was, God.

He was - he was a good friend -"

"Back to the point, Mr. Mathews. We need to find who killed him."

"Right, right, of course, sir. So - so Grant got on the bike, turned the key, and the engine just purred right up. And - at the time I didn't think nothing of it, sir, but now - I swear to God, sir, it sounded _satisfied_.

He was happy, said it handled like a fucking dream as he spun around in the street - and then... and then he set off down the road. I yelled at him, you know, said - I asked him where the heck he thought he was going. We - we were supposed to go back together to Smith, you see, and - that didn't work if he drove. 

Grant - Grant yelled back, sir, that - he wasn't driving the bike. He wasn't driving, and he couldn't get off. He sounded real frightened, sir. 

So I ran after him, but - the fog was coming in. I've lived right here in Brockton for five years, sir, but I've never seen a fog come through that fast. It went from where I could see clean down the road to where I could barely see my own hands. It was so quick, sir, it must've only been a minute. I could still hear Grant yelling though, something awful, and he wasn't - 

Sir, he wasn't yelling words anymore, he was screaming.

So I kept running, but I fell a few times - tripped over the curb in the dark, and I can't catch a motorbike on foot, not like Mister Crusader or Miss Purity could. He - Grant stopped, eventually, sir - he wasn't making a sound, I could barely hear the bike.

I don't know how nobody else heard it. Street like that, houses all along the side - I just, I just don't know.

I was still running, fast as I could, and -

Then - then I heard it. There was a great big splash, off to my left, sir, over by - over by the river. I couldn't rightly tell you how far away it was, the sound bounces off the fog, but I heard it, I swear I did, sir. And - it was strange, sir, but after that, the fog cleared up as quick as anything. I could see down the street again in a minute, maybe three.

There wasn't a sign of Grant, anymore, and I looked up and down the river for about an hour.

I - I didn't find anything, but sir - I think he went into that river, him and that bike. And I think - if they find him, it'll be when the body floats up."

"....Thank you, Mr. Mathews. We _will_ find the cape who murdered him."

"Thank you, Mister Kaiser, sir. It means a lot to me."

**Author's Note:**

> irl nazis, please take the "drowned by a carnivorous horse" challenge. If you can't find a carnivorous one, any old horse will do


End file.
